Across the sparkling dark green water San Francisco looked
a pale blue in the twilight and there was a banner of soft pink above
her. Lights were appearing on the military islands, the ferry boats,
and yachts. "You will be free in about a month now. Have you made any
plans? You will not stay here, of course."
"Stay here! I shall leave the day the decree is granted, and I'll
never see California again as long as I live."
"But where shall you go?"
"Oh--it would be interesting to live in Europe."
"Whether you have admitted it to yourself or not you have not the
remotest idea of going to Europe."
"Oh?"
"You are going to Langdon Masters. Nothing in the world could keep
you away from him--or should."
"I wish women smoked. You look so placid. And I am glad you smoke
cigarettes."
"Why not try one?"
"Oh, no!" She looked scandalized. "I never did that--before. The
other was for a purpose, not because I liked it."
"I am used to your line of ratiocination. But you haven't answered
my question."
"Did you ask one?"
"In the form of an assertion, yes."
"You know--the Church forbids marriage after divorce."
"Look here, Madeleine!" Holt brought his fist down on the table with
such violence that she half started to her feet. "Do you mean to tell
me you are going to let any more damn foolishness wreck your life a
second time?"
"You must not speak of the Church in that way.
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